Three stellar debuts and one astonishing finale. And the latest Mister X. Even as folks breathlessly scramble to prevent the Death of Comics, the medium is producing a broader range of excellent material than at any time in its history. Spread the word true-believer: everyone should be reading them. The List:

5. Lazarus #1 (Image): This book immediately stakes its ground alongside Brian Wood’s The Massive as a vital, involving piece of speculative science fiction. Whereas the former primarily deals with the effects of all-too-credible environmental disaster, Lazarus extrapolates our current economic debacle by asking ‘What happens when the 1% becomes the .0001%?’. Greg Rucka’s vision of a tech-saturated medievalism is compelling not only because of the verisimilitude of Michael Lark’s art, but precisely because it doesn’t feel as far-fetched as perhaps we’d like. A gripping debut. (DM)

Lazarus #1

4. Thumbprint #1 (IDW): Jason Ciaramella’s and Vic Malhotra’s excellent adaptation of Joe Hill’s novella involves a disgraced female soldier whose return home from Abu Ghraib is disturbed by an apparent stalker with knowledge of her dark past. Even as her privacy and safety are compromised, the reader is left to wonder who the real monster is. Adaptations of other media are tough to do; what works well in prose doesn’t always necessarily translate to comics. So far, Ciaramelia and Malhotra are pulling it off with aplomb. (DM)

Thumbprint #1

3. Mister X: Eviction #2 (Dark Horse): Hands down the most stylish book on the stands: retro-futurist, German Expressionist, neo-noir, New Wave, Pop Art. Dean Motter makes it ALL work, and then gives comics nostalgists an unexpected gift in the backup feature “Little Urchin Andy”, which is like Harold Gray’s classic as re-imagined by Katsuhiro Otomo and filmed by the Fleischer Bros. To call it a ‘mash-up’ would be to trivialize it. It is rather, a glorious orchestration, with Motter holding the conductor’s stick. Or is it a magic wand? (DM)

Mister X: Eviction #2

2. Fury: My War Gone By#13 (Marvel): A fitting finale for a series that has gone by far too quickly. In this issue of reconciliation and resignation, the point of Garth Ennis and Goran Parlov’s hard-hitting history lesson–as seen through the aged eye of Nick Fury–is hammered home by George Heatherly’s grand-daughter during a conversation with the weathered warhorse: “most of it had been completely pointless.” Our experience, however, tracing all of the lines on Fury’s face (see Dave Johnson’s terrific cover below), has been anything–everything–but. (SC)

Fury: My War Gone By #13

1. Six-Gun Gorilla #1 (BOOM!): Easily our favorite book of the month. And to think I thought it’d be no more than a one-note guilty pleasure! Silly me. In all actuality, Simon Spurrier and Jeff Stokely have cooked up something far more complex. From one panel to the next, I was awed; I oft guffawed; and each turn of a page–and commensurate peel of a layer–cemented this sucker as a Book of the Week. And as the month played out–and it was a heck of a month–what was left standing head and hairy shoulders above the rest? A gorilla with a gun and a come hither “Howdy.” (SC)

Sixth-Gun Gorilla #1

Biggest Dis(appointment): Scott Snyder

Severed. American Vampire. Gates of Gotham. Most of Batman‘s Court of Owls arc. Most of his run on Swamp Thing. Great stuff. No hesitation at all: Scott Snyder’s the goods. But as good as he’s been, he’s been pretty underwhelming of late. Yup: he’s shown some cracks in the ol’ armor–especially with the superhero books he’s headlining.

Now, I don’t know how to explain it; I mean, I’m just the consumer; I don’t claim to have the answers. But he seems to have become a victim of his prior success–success that translates directly–fairly or not–to expectations. Super high expectations.

This is how I envision it: Snyder’s a damsel in distress tied to the tracks, and the hype train that bears his name is bearing down on her–err, him. And, you know what? He needs a hero! He’s holding on for a hero till the end of the night. Sadly, neither Batman nor Superman was able to save him.

Just think about it for a minute. Wash the hype from your eyes. You know–you knowit in your bones–that Batman #21 isn’t what you were hoping for when you first started salivating over the ubiquitous Zero Year adverts.

Batman #21

Really, now: what does it offer? Another Death of the Family scenario? Instead of the Batfamily, we’re looking at a Kane/Wayne war? And the antagonist this time? No, not the Joker: it’s the Riddler! Really? The Riddler? There’s something funny about that, isn’t there? Ugh! Doubtless, we’ve seen Snyder borrow effectively from his previous work. But this? Come on! This is almost insulting to us readers! We deserve better, don’t we?

Well, we sure as hell didn’t get better with Superman Unchained #1.

Superman Unchained #1

Sure, the thing sold a ton; but what does that really mean? I’ll tell you one thing it doesn’t mean: it doesn’t mean that the book is good–because it isn’t. It’s a muddled mess that recalls the awkward wordiness of George Perez’s New 52 Superman and, inexplicably, the frivolousness of Scott Lobdell’s. You know what it is? It’s a special-effects laden blockbuster that, for all it’s blockbusting, fizzles out once the smoke clears. (I am still talking about the comic, by the way. No, really, I am.) We all know that Scott Snyder’s better than this, don’t we?

Derek Mainhart: Provocative title, eh? Well, we’ll get to that in a minute. First to some (finally) finished business.

Scott Carney: Finished, indeed–at least as far as Animal Man #18 (DC) finishes anything. And thank the good Lord, too. The Rot was wearing on me, man. It’s no secret: we didn’t care for the big two-part Rotworld finale for an unholy host of reasons. Lucky for us, the finale was only the finale of the storyline as it takes place in the actual Rotworld; and by actual, I mean possible because, in the end, Baker and Holland were presented with the opportunity to keep it all from happening in the first place–and, boy, did they take it! I can’t get into the nitty-gritty of the real finale, however, without first commenting on the ill-conceived cover. Jae Lee’s anguished Animal Man is stunning; and the cover would’ve been, too, had it not been sullied by a tragically-placed assertion that spits vomits in the eye of subtlety:

I mean, come on! Check out this art-only cover; it’s so much more effective:

Animal Man #18–Right?

Add the requisite logo and bar code and we’re still talking about an absolutely killer cover.

SC: Once inside, we’re treated to a quick little recap of the end of Swamp Thing #17 and then sucked into what Buddy refers to as “the most unsettling sensation,” while describing his return to the pre-Rotworld present. I found the narration unsettling, as well; it seems to creep toward the edge of profundity, never quite making it there, and, as a result, festers in ineffectuality and leaves behind unintentionally laughable lines–and a hero for whom I had trouble hoping the very best.

(I don’t do this very often: spoiler alert!!!)

I did find a truly touching moment in Buddy’s remembering Cliff’s finger painting different animals when the latter was “a little boy.” I’d have trouble, though, if you were to ask me to “flip the pages and point to another” such moment. Couldn’t do it. See: after that singular scene–in retrospect, the necessary father-and-son set-up for the end–the story dies as quickly and as unceremoniously as Cliff–who passes proudly as a “hero–just like [his father],” which, on a side note, is an interesting counterpoint to something Jeff Lemire’s developing in another one of his books, Green Arrow #18: Komodo, the Bullseye to Green Arrow’s Daredevil, has a daughter who–speaking of unsettling–plays the role of an evil apprentice, who also has a connection, story-wise to fingers, oddly enough; in this case, the little girl is used as a pointed threat against one of her father’s prisoners: “[…], or my daughter starts cutting off your fingers.” (By the way, I’m still not too sure how I feel about it. Kudos to Lemire for that!)

Back to Animal Man and the devolution of the story: with my own fingers dutifully turning pages, I found the dialogue disappointingly reminiscent of #17 (“So just die already!”). And how strange was the splash on page 18, with the guys in the yellow suits shedding their rot? At last! Something interesting! But, despite their presence on the page, neither Buddy nor Maxine react to the seemingly important revelation; and when Buddy finally does seem to notice them–several panels later–he doesn’t seem all that concerned! It was all so very awkward and forced–well, Lemire did have to live up to the promise of the textually explicit cover, after all; couldn’t bring myself to care, though, even with the final splash–and just not what I’ve come to expect from the aforementioned esteemed writer, who is an absolute master at developing sympathetic characters and complex yet relatable relationships. My expectations are still high for him and Animal Man, so I’ll be sticking around for more–especially since we’re headed in a new direction.

DM: Scott Snyder, on the other hand, in Swamp Thing #18 (DC), ties a bow on this story, and his run, in a manner that is satisfying and organic (pun intended–every time!). Amidst Yanick Paquette’s gorgeous leafmotif visuals is a story where the damsel becomes the hero, the demon is rent asunder, and our lovers have their stars well and truly crossed. But not before the creators generously allow them one last (first?) kiss, in which their passion literally burns. A fitting finale to a mostly excellent run.

But Swamp Thing and Animal Man aren’t the only hero-inhabiting-a-new-body-travels-to-a-dystopian-future-to-defeat-unearthly-evil-then-returns-to-the-present-in-order-to-prevent-it-in-the-first-place stories this week. That’s right! The same exact plot is featured in Dynamite’s Dark Shadows #14!

Dark Shadows #14

Ah well, no new ideas and all that; it’s how well you handle them. Writer Mike Raight’s vampiric version involves Gothic plot twists, backstabbing (with wooden stakes, natch!) and enough Grand Guignol action to satiate any horror fan. Artist Nacho Tenorio does a nice job orchestrating the gore, alternating between excess and restraint, the way any 1960’s-influenced horror should. This isn’t all superficial bloodletting however. (SPOILERS!) Raight infuses some depth and existential quandary as the evil that the hero, Barnabas Collins, must destroy in order to save his family, is himself. There’s also a well-wrought, even delicate twist, as Barnabas’ mysterious ally reveals that aiding him and taking revenge upon him are, in this case, one and the same. Solid and compelling, this book is one of the most reliable sources of monthly macabre that you’re likely to find.

So, having been hooked by our attention-grabbing title, you’ve made it this far through our post, and yet you find yourself disappointed by the lack of any content that could be considered truly eye-opening.

SC: Hey! What about my–

DM: Well then, you’ve got an idea of the experience of reading Sex #1 by Joe Casey and Piotr Kowalski (Image).

SC: Oh, I see. Clever.

DM: Mr. Casey means well. In a heartfelt (and rather breathless) afterword, he holds forth on the state of today’s comics; mainly the continued dominance of the Big Two despite the wild variety and quality of other work out there. Well hear, hear! And yet, what does he offer us? A wealthy scion reluctantly returns to run his vaguely defined corporate empire. A seedy underworld controlled by a grotesque mob boss. Words of wisdom from a trusted Man (or in this case, Gal) Friday. And, oh yeah, said wealthy scion is a former superhero. This set up bears any number of resemblances to Batman, the newfangled Green Arrow, Ex Machina (a much better melange of superhero/real world tropes from eight years ago), etc. But wait, this has superheroes and sex. Well Watchmen broke that seal long ago. It’s simply no longer a shocking conceit (I mean even Catwoman’s done it for chrissakes). Now, to Casey’s credit, when the naughty section does occur, despite its fairly graphic nature, it’s contrasted in such a way that it is robbed of nearly all prurient titillation. The participants even call out the reader’s presumed lasciviousness, in a clever use of breaking the fourth wall. Kudos to Casey for subverting the expectations set up by his conspicuous title. But in the end, this is just another superhero comic. And what’s so sexy about that?

SC: I hear ya. Image did have another release this week that I enjoyed more than Sex—

DM: (tee-hee!)

SC: Uh-huh. Anyway, it’s Jim McCann and Janet Lee’s Lost Vegas #1. It came with a little less hype than Casey’s book did, but it was loads better. Though engaging from the get-go, McCann’s writing does prove a bit hard to swallow at times, especially as the Ocean’s Eleven-esque scheme is laid out; but Lee’s artwork is enviably voluptuous, a stunning exercise in sensuality.

DM: Yes, Lee’s work is certainly the star for me thus far. She blew me away on Return of the Dapper Men a few years ago (also written by McCann). There she dazzled with an unorthodox process that combined vibrant expressionistic backgrounds with the sublime precision of Winsor McCay (if you don’t know who that is, look him up. Look him up now.) Here the chameleon-like Ms. Lee seems to be offering something of the sensual loucheness of Aubrey Beardsley, combined with the sci-fi sensibilities of Richard Corben, and even a dash of Hayao Miyazaki for fun.

SC: That’s some company she’s keeping.

DM: Indeed. Like Batwoman, this could become a book that I buy for the art alone.

SC: Well worth the price of admission. I’m certainly up for round two.

DM: Now, returning to our theme, for a nuanced, astute, refreshing exploration of sex, one need look no further than Adventure Time with Fionna & Cake #3 (kaboom!):

Adventure Time with Fiona & Cake #3

Sex, in this case, denoting gender. ‘A childrens’ book?’ you say, eyebrow ever so arched? Well in its brief existence, Pendleton Ward’s magical juggernaut has tackled such concepts as abandonment, existential loneliness, first loves, the bonds of honor and friendship, pride, sacrifice, betrayal, the origins of myth, the nature of evil, the afterlife, determinism, fate, and nuclear annihilation to name a few. It never addresses these issues head-on however (it’s much too smart for that), but from rather more of a sideways angle, (and perhaps, blindfolded). Y’know, Stuff Happens. Each candy-colored episode is wide open to (and the subject of) much interpretation. It’s the type of show that dissertations will be written about someday(if that hasn’t already happened). I ask you, what better place to consider gender and identity issues than the sociological phenomenon that is Adventure Time?

For those who don’t follow the show (losers!) Fionna and Cake was a fan-favorite episode which featured alternate, gender-swapped versions of series’ stars, Finn and Jake. Now Natasha Allegri, who had a hand in that episode, gives the ladies a chance to shine in their own title. Issue 3 is the best one yet. The first two issues established the characters as well the epic, yet tongue-in-cheek tone that AT does so well. The third issue really delves into the gender stuff and shows why this is not your father’s (um, older brother’s?) AT. The story begins with Marshall Lee (the male version of the vampire Marceline from AT) suddenly appearing in the lead characters’ home in a state of distress. But unlike his female counterpart, who is decidedly bad-ass, this vampire is positively sparkly. Needless to say, Fionna has a crush (-and Cake does not approve!) It seems they need to rescue Prince Gumball, who is caught in a ridiculous trap, which I won’t ruin for you. Nor shall I spoil all the loaded symbols, pregnant pauses and hysterical double entendres peppered throughout the tale. These never come across as forced or excessive; they are, indeed the story’s raison d’etre. I will say that they culminate in a visual gag so audacious that I couldn’t believe it was in a children’s comic, even as I barked with laughter. And yet it perfectly encapsulates the major theme of this series. Sound dirty? Well, again, it’s not because all of the above is not so much dealing with sex, as it is gender and identity. I am not suggesting (as I have with AT’s sister book Bravest Warriors) that this title is inappropriate for children. Part of Allegri’s brilliance (in addition to the beautiful art) is that this book is, on the literal level that children tend to read, an exuberant, imaginative adventure/fantasy. It certainly can (and should, to some degree) be enjoyed that way. The storytelling is deft enough that whatever other meaning children take away from it is entirely up to them. And you. Book of the Week.

Sex #1 (If you were expecting something else, you didn’t get it. A more honest title you’re not likely to find.)

Swamp Thing #18 (Going in with an open mind–opened further by Paquette’s capable hands.)

Winter Soldier #16 (Love the cover. That aside: this is the make-or-break issue. Actually hoping for make.)

Daredevil: End of Days #6 (Will be one of the best books of the week. At this point, it can’t help it.)

Shadowman #5 (It’s not every day that a comic makes the mainstream news. No, wait.)

Bedlam #5 (I described it to my wife as “an ultra-violent book about the psychology of a serial killer.” She seemed OK with it. Full disclosure: she was pretty well locked into the final Wheel puzzle, so…)

Animal Man #18 (Well, speaking of expectations: this one comes with–right on the cover! That, or a tragic how-to: how to effectively undermine a an otherwise suburb Jae Lee cover.)

Scott Carney: While never done in a ceremonial manner–certainly never hand to heart–I think it’s safe to say, as evidenced by my weekly What’s Up? posts, that I have publicly pledged allegiance–in a case or two, unabashedly blind allegiance–to an exclusive club of comic creators. Two fellas who fall into that illustrious legion of superscribes are Scott Snyder (Severed, American Vampire) and Jeff Lemire (Essex County, Sweet Tooth).

But I fear–as I do fondly while reading the best of Snyder–that I no longer hear the deliciously shuddersome voice that drew me to him in the first place. Certainly not in Swamp Thing #17.

Swamp Thing #17

And, I no longer hear Lemire’s refreshingly veracious voice, either, if I’m being honest–as heartwrenchingly honest as he is when he’s at his best. Certainly not in Animal Man #17.

Animal Man #17

It seems, here, in the two-book Rotworld finale, that each–a true master of his craft–has been thwarted by a wholly unexpected villain: the run-of-the-mill comic book hero. (Don’t get me wrong: on both fronts, the build up to the finale was just fine. If I’m being fair, however, Snyder’s work on Swamp Thing was more effective than Lemire’s on Animal Man–most assuredly because Snyder was living closer to home: the terrifying creatures littering the landscape of Rotworld are natural notes for him to play; and he played them well enough–again, until the end of this corrosive crossover.) What irony, eh? After laying a foundation–spanning several solid issues– upon which the defenders of fauna and flora fight alongside a surviving set of superbeings, what happens to Snyder’s signature horror? It’s foiled by the hero. What happens to Lemire’s signature honesty? It, too, is foiled by the hero. Foiled by the heroes’ hailstorm of shockingly silly lines–one more horrifically ridiculous than the next. Foiled by the heroes’ lack of believable layers, leaving them flat and cold, leaving them decidedly devoid of emotion; leaving them an unbridgeable distance from the ones they supposedly love–and from us.

So, as each creative team shoves its protagonist closer to the end–in this case, toward a portal to the past, which will allow the pair “to stop Arcane” from establishing Rotworld in the first place, kind of like a couple of Terminators after Sarah Connor–the cracks widen, deepen; and the finale collapses under the weight of the concept, resulting not in the presumably successful symphony for which we paid admission, but, instead, in a cacophony of defeat.

Derek Mainhart: I have to agree. What was so interesting about these two titles was each writer applying their own distinctive voice to the superhero trappings; Snyder’s almost clinical way with horror and Lemire’s naturalistic rendition of family dynamic amidst trying times. That they were able to do this while simultaneously working different sides of the same story was even more impressive. Now though, both of those strengths have been subsumed by the perceived requirements of epic storytelling: wooden dialogue, numbingly explosive action, and awful sidekicks (in particular, the character of Shepherd suggests Lemire is a part of that small, but distinctive demographic: the Jar Jar Binks fan). Yes, Animal Man has fared worse. As you say, Rotworld is more in Snyder’s wheelhouse; in fact, as I’ve said, the previous issue of Swamp Thing was quite good. And so, despite the unholy mess that was these two issues, I still have (some) faith that Snyder might be able to tie this all up with some sort of fitting coda, in what will be, after all, his last issue. Now that our heroes our back in the present, I hope that Lemire, who is continuing on Animal Man, will return to his strengths as well, tripping the light fantastic between the everyday and the extraordinary. Because the overweening superhero stuff is simply not him.

To wit: Green Arrow #17. This was billed as “jumping on point” due to the new creative team of Lemire and Andrea Sorrentino. And it delivers, in a ‘by the book’ (‘buy the book’?) sort of way: the hero’s status quo is violently dismantled by a new villain who seems to know everything about him. A new mystery is introduced regarding said hero’s past. Confidantes are killed, and cryptic utterances, uttered. All the notes are hit. And yet, to continue your musical metaphor, it doesn’t sing. It’s like a robot playing Beethoven; a rote exercise. Now I’m obviously not a regular reader of Green Arrow. Perhaps to fans of the emerald archer, this issue provided a new direction, a sense of excitement. But I picked it up because it was a Jeff Lemire book. Sadly there is nothing of his voice in this. Anyone could’ve written it.

SC: I hear you, sir! If anything, it’s a three chord ditty: it’s listenable, sure–likeable, even, for what it is; but in the end, what is it, really? One thing’s for sure, it’s not what we love from Lemire.

DM: What we love, indeed. But what’s all this talk of “voice” and “music”? In a superhero comic? We’re expecting too much you say? Shame on you, you should know better by now. Any genre can achieve stirring crescendo given the right creator.

I submit: Dial H #9. This issue, indeed the entire series, has served up an aria of imagination by writer China Mieville. His unending cavalcade of absurd, sublime heroes is itself worth the price of admission–not to mention this ridiculous cover by Brian Bolland:

Here, we are treated to the monstrous Minotaura, and her singular method of ensnaring her prey. (Kudos also to artists Alberto Ponticelli and Dan Green who are quickly finding their feet on this title.) And then there is The Glimpse, a hero whose inspired power is to stay forever at the periphery of your vision. You see a glove here, a boot there, but the hero himself is just beyond your reach, always teasing you with his promise, but ultimately leaving the panel empty. If there’s a better metaphor for the never-ending, epic-obsessed, hype machine that is the current state of the superhero industry, I’ve yet to find it. Want to say it together?

Action Comics #17 (DC): Promises to be epic. Either way, Morrison’s last will be mine as well.

Animal Man #17 (DC): Wondering where this is going to go after Rotworld.

Dial H #9 (DC): Didn’t kick off 2013 the way it stomped through 2012. Expectations are still dialed up pretty high–and maybe that’s the problem.

Green Arrow #17 (DC): Lemire’s run begins. Will it be a bull’s eye or another quivering misfire?

Swamp Thing #17 (DC): Not caring where this is going to go after Rotworld. As with Morrison’s Action, Snyder’s last will be mine as well.

Daredevil: End of Days #5 (Marvel): #4 was really good. In fact, halfway through, this mini has been surprisingly effective.

Ultimate Spider-Man #20 (Marvel): Venom? Gag–unless he’s going to be used in an unexpected manner, which is totally possible. Bendis has earned a long leash– even with a poisonous character like the toxic tongue wagger himself.

Harbinger #0 (Valiant): Great stuff. So great, in fact, that I’m not worried about a zero diversion. Not in the least.

Shadowman #4 (Valiant): Didn’t expect to get this far with it.

Snapshot #1 (Image): Looks interesting enough. Don’t have much experience with Diggle. I’m jumping on because of Jock, who has been doing some transcendent work on the Batman back-ups, or extensions, or whatever they are.

Snapshot #1

Garth Ennis’ Red Team #1 (Dynamite): Ennis is so hot right now he’s impossible to pass up.

Garth Ennis Red Team #1

Colder #4 (Dark Horse): Started off so well. Unfortunately, has fallen faster than Declan’s body temperature.

Scott Carney: Two pages in, I knew that Change #2 (Image) would be my favorite book of the week. This trippy little thing is big on bouncing to the beat of an earlier generation. Oh, we’re on a road, all right; I’m just not entirely sure where that road–or where writer Ales Kot–is taking us, and I’m pretty sure that Google Maps isn’t going to help me. And, you know what? That aspect, which could easily be a deal breaker, is actually one of the endearing qualities of this enigmatic issue–along with the poetry that pulses like poisoned blood through the veins of the sharply shifting vignettes, which all lead back, apparently, to the newly-revealed lungs of the book: New Atlantis. Another draw comes in the form of the fresh characters, whom I still hardly know two issues into the series, but about whom I care more than the hopeless heroes of of the Avengers Arena and more than the trite assemblage of assassins in the frivolous Thunderbolts. (Each of those NOW! titles is now a THEN! That’s right: El Droppo. Would you say I’ve dropped a plethora of books?) Sure, yeah, I felt lost; but isn’t that what I’m supposed to feel? (Isn’t that what the characters feel?) Damn it! Isn’t that what I want? Isn’t that what I’m paying for? For an escape from the grind? For a change of pace? Appropriately, “YESSSSssss.”

Derek Mainhart: I agree that this is one idiosyncratic little book. The analogy you make to beat poetry is good one; this book has an evocative, rambling cadence that seems as much the point as the actual events that take place (whatever they are). The experience of reading an experimental, seemingly stream-of-conscious work like this can be an engaging, highly personal one. Like beat poetry, I appreciate the unorthodox immediacy of it (not to mention Morgan Jeske’s Paul Pope-inflected artwork). But it is simply not my groove. (Or maybe between this, Fatale and Locke and Key, I’ve just reached my quotient of Lovecraft-inspired comics.)

The Superior Spider-Man#1 (Marvel)

Speaking of change, this was billed as a BIG one. As regular readers are aware, I’m among those who are appalled by Spidey’s recent history. So when the rumors started flying about this book’s premise, I started picking up Amazing Spider-Man again for the first time in years. And I have to say, I was intrigued by Dan Slott’s story: having ol’ Doc Ock mind-swap with Peter Parker, then letting Parker die in Ock’s enfeebled body did, in fact, feel like a shake-up of the status quo. Letting a megalomaniac muck about in the life of an icon seemed to have potential (It says volumes about the mess Marvel’s made of Peter Parker that killing him could actually improve the book). So I was on board. And for the first twenty-one pages I was not disappointed (SPOILERS!): Doctor Spider-Pus fighting the new Sinister Six, not so much out of moral obligation but because he’s indignant that they’re sullying his legacy. Then, in true supervillain fashion, he defeats them by leading them into a meticulously prepared, elaborate deathtrap. With great ego, it would seem, comes great responsibility. That ego is again on display in a scene in which the brilliant Doctor starts fraying at the edges with the knowledge that all of his future accomplishments will be credited to Peter. And finally, in the best sequence in the book, Otto Parktavius goes on a date with Petey’s beloved Mary Jane. In a hilarious tour de lettering, Otto’s self-absorbed narration is “pasted” over MJ’s dialogue while he blithely ogles her (I assume this was Slott’s decision, but kudos to letterer Chris Eliopoulos anyway for an effect I’ve never quite seen before). Ryan Stegman’s aggressive artwork, all sharp angles, blocky shadows and speed-lines, perfectly matched the irreverent tone of a story that held the promise of deconstructing super-hero tropes by turning them on their head (not that this is Watchmen or anything, but there is a gleeful audacity in doing this sort of thing to Spider-Man).

And then page twenty-two. Who should show up to ruin the fun? Why, Peter Parker of course! (or his ghost, or whatevyawn…) Now, I’m not naive; we’re talking about a super-hero comic. Of course Peter’s coming back. Nobody stays dead, silly! But so soon? The first issue of the much hoopla-ed big change? Maybe it was Slott’s plan all along, but this reeks of corporate hand-wringing: God forbid Peter Parker doesn’t appear in a Spider-Man comic for even one issue. (Slott even goes to the extent of having Petey verbalize the Game Plan: “I am Peter Parker. And I swear I will find a way BACK!“) Never mind that this retroactively robs AMS #700 of even the illusion of poignancy less than a month after its publication; in one fell swoop, an edgy, promising, even satirical premise has been rendered safe, predictable and pedestrian – the very opposite of a change in status quo. I, for one, am not looking forward to watching Peter play Lily Tomlin to Otto’s Steve Martin. (Name That Reference! Win a prize!) I haven’t been this deflated by an ending since A.I. Artificial Intelligence.

SC: Yeah. Me, too! No, really: you took the web right out of my shooter. But I–may I vent? Come on! They couldn’t’ve given us three issues–just three issues!–to savor this stroke of genius. No, sir! Gosh, I wish I were a spider on the wall during the pitches and the planning and any of the other processes that led to–to–this! I mean, seriously: was this Slott’s plan all along? Was there some directive from on high to not let this linger too long? I’ll tell you what I wasn’t thinking after reading the page that shall remain numberless: Oh boy, I can’t wait to see how Peter comes back! So, yeah, it’s quite possible that as quickly as they won me over, they’ve lost me. I’m not too sure how far I’ll follow this not-so-superior turn.

OK, then, well, really speaking of change (you’d think it’s a theme or something): a big change is coming for one of our favorite titles. And, it’s a bag-shattering change, too. That’s right: Scott Snyder’s almost done with his run on Swamp Thing(DC); so I guess that means I’m almost done with my run, too. Aye, and it was a good one.

DM: Yeah, talk about change you can’t believe in. It really is a shame; with issue 16, Snyder has recaptured some of the aura of the first year of the book. The extended build-up to the current Rotworld storyline distinguished itself with a steady baseline of unease, intermittently punctuated by surreal spasms of horror (especially when rendered with skin-crawling effectiveness by sometimes-series artist, Yanick Paquette). The series began to lose a little mojo with the introduction of Anton Arcane as the villain of the piece. The terror went from chillingly existential to almost cartoonish super-villainy (Anton would twirl his mustache if he had a face.) When Rotworld kicked into high gear a few months ago, the book seemed to further strain under the expectations of “epic” storytelling. But here Snyder once again hits his stride with a tale split between the struggle of the past to prevent the nightmarish present. The two strands also serve as emotional counterpoint, traversing the oh-so-short distance between hope and despair. In the (alternate?) present, Swamp Thing valiantly struggles to save, not the world, nor reality itself, but the only thing that matters to him in the end; his love, Abigail. More’s the pity then that Abigail’s quest in the past seemingly renders Swampy’s heroics utterly futile. This is the stuff of tragedy–and of terror: without giving too much away, let’s just say that when Snyder promises a shock (unlike Superior Spider-Man), he doesn’t back down.

Only two more issues of Snyder and Paquette? Now that’s tragic.

SC: Hell yeah it is! But, come on: do you really think Abigail’s gone for good? I have a sneaky suspicion that Mr. Thing is going to use some of his bio-restorative formula to bring her back to life–to some form of life, maybe even as a Swamp Thingess. That’d be a fitting finale, wouldn’t it: another out-of-step ending for the otherwise superior Scott Snyder. (See the end of his Batman: Court of Owls arc if you don’t believe me.)

Moving on, I’m willing to admit it: I’ve changed my mind about Shadowman (Valiant) with #3. A little background: I don’t have any background with Shadowman as a book or as a character. I figured I’d give it a whirl since Valiant’s revamp was 4-for-4 with two home runs (Archer & Armstrong and Harbinger) and two triples (X-O Manowar and Bloodshot). The first issue really didn’t do it for me, and I pretty much called it quits there. Then, during a trip to a more well-stocked shop than my home base, I saw #2 and decided to pick it up because I had a few bucks left over. (Yeah, I’m still working on the whole willpower thing. Getting better, though!) I still wasn’t too taken by it. Flash forward to another trip to my shop on the side: the proprietor offered up #3 as one of his favorite covers of the week. Yup. That was enough for me. And wouldn’t you know: I really liked it: I finally bought Mr. Twist as a terrifying villain. I dug the descent into the Deadside; more specifically I was taken–along with Jack–by Jaunty, the talking monkey with the sweet hat and the sweeter Cajun ‘tude. I appreciated the obvious allusion to King Arthur: Jack, in this case recognizing his responsibility, his destiny, draws the scythe from the shadow and becomes the new Shadowman. And with that, Justin Jordan and Patrick Zircher have earned a new Shadowfan. Bring on the big baddie: bring on Master Darque!

DM: And finally (and finally), Sweet Tooth #40 (DC/Vertigo), a book that’s all about change. Throughout it’s run this book has always seemed an odd, at times ill-fitting addition to the post-apocalyptic literary landscape. Jeff Lemire’s take on the end of man seemed to lack the visceral drive of The Walking Dead, the gravitas of I Am Legend, or the pointed political commentary of Y: The Last Man (to name but a few well-known exemplars of the genre). The story seemed to have a narrow focus: the young hybrid boy/deer, Gus and his grizzled protector, Jepperd fight to survive against malevolent pursuers, endlessly chasing them through the woods, determined to discover the mystery of Gus’ creation and, they hope, the key to mankind’s survival. And though the cast expanded, the scope of the narrative was never itself expansive in the way stories like this generally are. The same, however, cannot be said of the art. Nobody does desolate landscapes like Lemire (praise must also be heaped upon series colorist par excellence, Jose Villarrubia, he of the muted earth tones and washed out firmament). The setting and spare nature of much of the writing created a lyrical tone of atmosphere and ache. This restrained aesthetic, which is Lemire at his best (see Essex County) is ultimately what separates this book from the rest of the genre. In fact, with its devotion to craft, the work it most resembles is perhaps Cormac McCarthy’s The Road. Both are about fathers and sons (a recurring theme in Lemire’s work, from The Underwater Welder to Animal Man). And both find hope in the passing of the torch to the next generation. But whereas McCarthy’s hope is a flickering candle in unremittant darkness, Lemire’s is a bonfire of celebration. Though the territory covered by the series may not have broad, this generous, and alas, final issue is expansive in perhaps its most important measure: its heart. Book of the Week. Good Night, Sweet Tooth.

Welcome to the 27th Annual Edition of the Top Ten Comics of the Year! What began as two educators blogging in obscurity about their love affair with comics, has grown to become the most highly-anticipated event of the year amongst trend-setters, industry-watchers and that most idolized of velvet rope celebrities, the comic book creator. Why it seems like just yesterday that a little book called Sandman made the list (No. 7, 1991) giving birth to a worldwide phenomenon (we just received our yearly gift of one dozen black roses and homemade crumpets from Neil in eternal gratitude).

A note to the naysayers who complain about end-of-year lists: comics and numbers go hand-in-hand like old movies and cigarettes. If you say the number 27, what serious comics fan wouldn’t think Detective? Or 252, Spidey’s black costume? Why do round-numbered “anniversary” issues always sell higher? From what dark recesses of the mind doth spring the obsession for a new Number 1 (as this past year surely demonstrates)? Fighting it is like the Kingpin fighting his urge for a donut: counter-intuitive and pointless. So to the list-cynics I say: go make a Top Ten List of your Least Favorite Top Ten Lists and be done with it. You’ll feel better.

The rules: As always, 80% (or 8) of our choices are books that Scott and Derek both read. We each get one alternate to round out the list (see if you can guess which ones these are! Correct answers will get a prize!). For limited series, the lion’s share of the story had to have seen print this year to be eligible (for instance, although Severed finished in 2012, most of the story was published in 2011. Similarly, Garth Ennis’ latest run on Battlefields, which tend to run in nine-issue installments, is only two issues in – and is already a strong contender for next year’s list). There are also no graphic novels on the list. There is no shortage of exciting work being done in a longer format, but this list, like the website itself, is dedicated to those wonderful monthly, folded-and-stapled periodicals which compel us to make our weekly Wednesday trek to the local comic book store for fear of missing something. (Having said that, congrats to Chris Ware on the inclusion of Building Stories on the NY Times own list of Top Ten Books of the Year. Check it out. It is a piece of work.)

What unites most of the books on the list I think, is an expansive approach to storytelling; a willful cherry-picking of literary devices from various genres, gleefully mashing them up against each other and seeing what happens. The playfulness in the examples below is infectious but not inchoate; they are produced by masters of their craft. Each creator involved has hit some kind of stride in the past year. Each comic is a breath of fresh air in our four-colored medium. We are the lucky recipients.

We here at Images and Nerds, of course, welcome debate (as long as you realize the futility of it, as all results are final, having been engraved in a cave wall for posterity.)

Without further eloquence, here’s our Top Ten:

10.Animal Man/Swamp Thing(DC) – OK, so this is our sneaky way of cramming eleven titles into our top ten list, but these two books really need to be considered as one. The amount of planning and coordination done by respective writers Jeff Lemire and Scott Snyder could serve as a template for the proper way to do that most fraught of endeavors: the crossover. These two clearly share a vision and it’s been thrilling to watch two creators at the top of their game working in such organic concert. Though the story has bogged down somewhat now that we’re in the middle of the epic proper, it’s been one of the surprising delights of the past year to watch their little corner of the DCU grow into its most compelling destination. (DM)

9.Fury: My War Gone By (Marvel) – I hope you didn’t let your year go by without your grabbing Garth Ennis’s take on Marvel’s eternal warrior, Nick Fury, the only cyclops worth a good Goddamn in the Marvel Universe, anymore, be it NOW! or MAX or whatever. Fury’s certainly the star here as he boozily–and honestly–reflects upon some of the secret missions he undertook after WW II to ostensibly make a difference in a dangerous world. But this title is more so everything we love about Ennis: perfectly composed conversations amongst expertly crafted characters (like the deliciously deep Shirley Defabio and the larger-than-life–and classic Ennis creation–Sergent Chef Steinhoff), all before a backdrop of war, with stops in Indochina, Cuba, and Vietnam, where the book will continue–at a punishing pace–in 2013. But if Fury’s too hero for you, check out Ennis’s latest Battlefields saga, Battlefields: The Green Fields Beyond; it’s through two–a Top Ten worthy two–of six. Either way, you can’t go wrong; in this guy’s hands, war is heaven. (SC)

8.The Shade(DC) – Once upon a time their was a writer of enormous range and nuance; one who easily blended genres and had an uncanny ability to capture the untidy, individual voices of each of his many characters in service of stories both grand and intimate. His name was James Robinson and the exemplar of his craft was a series called Starman. Now in the years since the end of that remarkable book, there has been a writer named James Robinson working on various super-hero books, but the quality of them has been so wildly inconsistent and lacking in authorial voice that it can scarcely seem possible that it is the same writer. Interesting then, that it took a return to the Starman universe to bring about a return to form. In The Shade, Robinson returns to his most compelling creation; a character both physically and morally in the shadows, one whose dandyish affectations and droll, Oscar Wilde-inflected narration serve as perfect counterpoint to the pulpy theatrics of a host of skillfully handled genres and subgenres. Welcome back Mr. Robinson. Stay awhile, please do. (DM)

7.Daredevil (Marvel) – Even a blind person who hasn’t had his other senses enhanced by exposure to radioactive material could see that this title has been Marvel’s best for over a year now. Aside from the seemingly endless Omega Drive arc, which was a series of wrong turns–including a pointless crossover with Spider-Man and The Punisher–with a few delectable diversions dribbled in, specifically issue #12, Daredevil has been the model book in terms of how to marry mirth and mystery. Mark Waid, Chris Samnee, and Javier Rodriguez had Daredevil dance with Doom for a couple of sensational issues and then created something strange and beautiful with the Coyote storyline, one that had me, at times, wondering if it were headed anywhere–and, in the end, boy, was it! Damn my dubiousness! There are a few creators worth our blind trust and our limitless patience, and Waid is without a doubt one of them. (Speaking of, have you noticed the tone Waid’s establishing over on Indestructible Hulk?) Similarly, there are many heroes whom we hold dear, but none as dearly as The Man Without Fear. (SC)

6.Frankenstein: Agent of S.H.A.D.E.(DC) – What could easily have been a Hellboy rip-off instead turns out to be an exuberant melange of Universal Monsters from the 1930s and James Bond tropes turned on their head. Jeff Lemire (see #10) got the ball rolling (along with Alberto Ponticelli, whose pitch-perfect art will be missed when he leaves shortly – see #1) with a commitment to unrelenting, over-the-top action. The extraordinary Matt Kindt (see #3) continued the run by focusing on Frankenstein’s tragic history, without sacrificing a whit absurdity or epic carnage. If anything the hint of pathos serves to ground the general giant-monster frenzy, making the book even stronger. Another oddball (and alas, soon to be late and lamented) winner from DC. (DM)

5. Fatale (Image) – Sure, Ed Brubaker seemed to give up on Captain America in an uninspired final run; and he ran a minimalist route as he turned Winter Soldier into a must-read–and, unexpectedly, a top Marvel book for 2012. It’s clear, however, where he was focusing his energies: Fatale is Mr. Brubaker at his brutal best. If you have enjoyed his iconic work with the spectacular Sean Phillips on such titles as Criminal and Incognito, then you’ve most assuredly found Fatale to die for. A dangerous dame, herself in danger; a fistful of dupes, their freewill twisted as if by magic; some crooked cops and crazy cultists; buckets of blood and nightmarish monsters: all of it comes together to set a terrifying tone and to mold and unfold a complex and compelling mystery–one that insists upon your complete attention. And how about Phillips’ covers? Stunning. Yes, indeed, this is a book that stands out from the rest–in more ways than one. (SC)

4. The Zaucer of Zilk (IDW) – Brendan McCarthy and Al Ewing’s mini-masterpiece is also perhaps the hardest book on the list to define. Carrollian fantasy, 1960’s psychedelia, and high-flying adventure crash together in a two-issue candy-colored phantasmagoria of a tale. The all-too-brief narrative packs in a lot of story but never feels weighed down by its creators everything-and-the-kitchen-sink approach. Indeed the sheer scope of imagination on display – conceptually, thematically, incidentally even – breathes such voluminous life into the thing that it threatens to take flight right out of your hands and soar into the ether. It would take most comics years to build a universe as enthralling as this. I, for one, am hoping for a return trip. (DM)

3.Mind MGMT (Dark Horse) – This is one sexy book. Matt Kindt–a creator on the cusp of greatness–is doing what he’s so very good at here: telling a taut tale at a brisk pace, one supported by humble yet gorgeous artwork, with colors you just want to drown in. Go ahead: open any issue to any page; I guarantee you’ll gasp for air–and it’ll feel exhilarating. I love the concept: Mind MGMT is like the Bush-era Office of Strategic Influence on steroids. The execution is flawless: the story starts with a startling scene of murderous rage, which, teasingly lacks motive and context, and then segues into a cloudy memory of Amnesia Flight 815, which, in turn, sets the stage for Meru, who sees her next bestseller in the mid-air mystery. But it’s all just foreplay, friends. Once Meru meets Henry Lyme, the narrative explodes with the latter’s back story, which is awe-inspiring in its inventiveness and hellishly heart-wrenching, especially as we learn how the rogue operative had a hand–or, more accurately, a mind–in the opening sequence of ultraviolence. Simply masterful. The extras are fun, too, especially the bonus stories, which help to build this brilliantly intricate new mythology of men and women who are dangerously and desperately more than their fellow man. Through seven issues of Mind MGMT and with his fantastic work on Frankenstein: Agent of S.H.A.D.E., Kindt’s proving that he’s more, too–that he’s undoubtedly fit to comfortably sit in the pantheon of present day comic book gods. (SC)

2.Saga (Image) – Combine Star Wars with Romeo and Juliet.Douglas Adams with Meet the Parents.Heavy Metal with The Wonder Years. Brian K. Vaughan and Fiona Staples are pushing against all kinds of boundaries here in a comic that truly has the air of limitless possibility about it. They are also unafraid of testing the preconceptions of their own readership (not to mention their intestinal fortitude – I personally can’t wait for Fard the Ogre’s 2012 Pin-Up Calendar, in all its scrotal glory). But for all this, in the end their story is about one family’s struggle to survive. In this day and age, what could be more resonant? (DM)

1. Dial H (DC) – Who knew that it’d take a “Second Wave” to shore up our faith in The New 52? Well, it did: and said wave, which rolled in during low tide–with even lower expectations–deposited this unexpected treasure from novelist China Mieville and artist extraordinaire Mateus Santolouco at our feet; but once in hand, it was clear: this weird and wonderful story of a regular schmoe who dials up heroes from different worlds is a tsunami of creative vision. Sure, the first few issues are tough to follow, but it’s in a manner reminiscent of the best of Grant Morrison, where perplexity percolates into something akin to pleasure. And there’s plenty of pleasure to be had here, especially in the surprises born of Nelson’s turning the dial: there’s the unforgettable first, Boy Chimney, conjured in a stunning sequence of soot and smoke by Santolouco; and there’s the brilliantly satirical Chief Mighty Arrow, depicted bravely by guest artist David Lapham in an issue that just missed being named our Best Single Issue of the Year. No hero, however, was as inspirational as Rescue Jack: with the dial down, Nelson finds the hero within and saves the day–if only for a moment. Looking forward, 2013 promises an exciting turn: former Frankenstein: Agent of S.H.A.D.E. artist Alberto Ponticelli has been tapped to take on the challenge of bringing the magic of Mieville’s mind to the page. We know he’s up for it. Let’s hope that the readership is, too. While Dial H has survived the Fourth Wave–sadly, the same can’t be said of Frankenstein–who knows which books the inevitable Fifth and Sixth Waves will wrest from our hands. So, we say, with the volume dial cranked to 11: buy this book! (SC)

Best Single Issue of the Year:Adventure Time #10 (kaboom!) – “Choose Your Own Adventure Time!” by Ryan North, Shelli Paroline and Braden Lamb. This 15 page story is: An entertaining juggling act of any number playful narratives. A nostalgic, tongue-in-cheek callback for Gen Xer’s and one of their quaint, decidedly analog forms of interactive experience. A meditation on the control we have over our lives (or lack thereof) invoking the Free-Will vs. Determinism debate. A formalistic tour de force where story and design combine seamlessly in an innovative fashion that seems to expand the very possibilities of the comic book medium. A children’s book with fart jokes. You choose.

Publisher of the Year: This is easy. With four out of the top ten spots (including No.1) it’s gotta be DC right? Wrong. If the first full year of the New 52 relaunch was able to till some fertile ground where the above books were allowed to grow, we are grateful. But each of these books are outliers in the DCU (or in the case of Animal Man/Swamp Thing, at least started as such). Much of their appeal lies in how they’re straining against and redefining the very super-hero mold that they are a part of. Because that of course was the focus of the New 52: superheroes. Retrenching, dusting off the icons and giving them a makeover for the 21st century. In 2012 however, that seems a backward-looking editorial mandate. Artistically, comics as a medium have long since proved capable of encompassing any genre or subject under the sun (or behind it. or beyond it.) But what our medium still suffers from (and this is why the general public remains unconvinced about the viability of comics as a legitimate entertainment source) is a lack of the sheer amount and variety of product that you see in other formats (TV, movies, books, etc). Like it or not, when most people think comic books, they still think superheroes. Well the company doing the most change that, to fill the void on a week-by-week basis is: ImageComics (knew I’d get there eventually, right?) Go ahead, check out their catalog on any given week: crime, sci-fi, espionage, historical fiction, horror, comedy (and yes, some capes too). And all creator-owned. Are they all hits? Of course not. But Image is doing more than any publisher to create a culture that cultivates young talent while also attracting established creators, united by this one overarching philosophy: create any damn comic you can think of. Smells like the future–or at least 2013.

SC: I know it’s December, wise ass. The fact that it’s December has just made it friggin’ colder.

DM: No, that’s Paul Tobin and Juan Ferreyra. They made it–colder, I mean. Colder #2. Remember? You were actually looking forward to it.

SC: So this is how it’s gonna be?

DM: Yup.

SC: Fantastic.

DM: What’s the matter with you?

SC: Nothing. Why?

DM: ‘Cause your face is all red.

SC: F you.

DM:FFyou.

SC: Nah. I can’t do this. I’m outta here. Gonna watch some TV or do something less productive.

DM: So you can rot your brain?

SC: You’re not funny.

DM: Oh, and you’re some sort of furious comedian? There are a lot of books worth talking about, man. Just accept it. I’ll even get the action started if you want.

SC: What I’d like you to do is dial it down a bit. I’ll–damn it.

DM: I knew you had it in you.

—Colder #2 Cover

SC: Yeah, so, why don’t I just get to it, then.I really liked Colder #2. It took me a while to find it, but it was certainly worth the effort. Ferreyra’s art is absolutely gorgeous. Did you notice how the characters wore the shadows from the leaves as they were walking beneath the trees? What attention to detail! And it complements Tobin’s creepy-ass story so very well–whether it’s the precipitous present or the fiery return to the institution or the wickedly-rendered Hungry World; it’s all so good. Hell, I’m certainly hungry for more!

DM: What else you got?

SC: Well, how about FF #1? I know you like Mike Allred’s work a lot; but I’ve had trouble getting into it. His guest turns on DD and on Wolverine and the X-Men weren’t my favorite. But there was something about the way he conveys his characters that meant something to me. Something I couldn’t quite grasp. Something very distant. Too distant.

DM: This is getting really heavy all of a sudden.

SC: And wouldn’t you know, I couldn’t tell what it was until this book–until his stunning take on She-Hulk. You know what it is? His style–his very distinct style–reminds me of Colorforms. Boy, did I love Colorforms. So, it makes sense I’d dig Allred. His work is super solid here, especially as it carries Matt Fraction’s father-to-father tete-a-tete and the silly recruitment of the “new” Fantastic Four, which will stand in place of the family Fantastic for all of four minutes. Four minutes? I’m sure. And I’ve probably mentioned it before: I’m not a big fan of Fraction. In fact, I’ve probably liked about half of what I’ve read of his. But I like how he’s set this up. I particularly enjoyed the photo booth-like strips of the kids’ teaching Ant-Man about the foundation, which comes into context on the last page.

DM: I smell a segue here.

SC: Boy, it’s like you know exactly where I’m headed.

DM: You can can say that. Back to it.

SC: OK. Well, both Swamp Thing #15 and Animal Man #15 play up the power of the final page turn with semi-surprise endings. I won’t give them away–

DM: Wow. When have you ever missed an opportunity to spoil an ending for an unsuspecting reader?

SC: I don’t know what to tell you. I’m feeling stingy. Must be the holidays. Anyway, if I may? I won’t give them away, but, tell me, would it really matter if I did? This Rotworld storyline, while relatively well done, especially for a crossover, is essentially a possible future, right? In that, I’m left wondering, does it count? Kinda like with Spider-Men, you know? But then I’m like, does it really matter if it counts? Does it matter if it doesn’t? A dumb debate, I know. Pushing that aside, it’s worth noting that it’s clear that Snyder and Lemire are, quite literally, on the same page here: they’ve created almost perfectly parallel experiences that don’t suffer for the similarities. In that, I feel like they’re doing something special. This time around, Lemire’s side of the story stands out, especially with Lemire’s bringing his former charge, Frankenstein, into the fray. Don’t get me wrong: Snyder definitely doesn’t disappoint. I like how he’s teasing us with the probably-not-dead Abby Arcane narrative. However, I wasn’t as impressed with his use of William this time around. In fact, Lemire used the tricky little bastard to greater effect over on AM. Oh, and I can’t forget: Marco Rudy’s layouts are pretty stellar. What a ride, right? Until, of course, the final page–a clean splash where–

DM: Hey! I thought you weren’t going to spoil the, what did you call it, “semi-surprise.”

SC: Oh, all right. Maybe I’ll just mention that Fury Max #7 was terrific. I love the layers Ennis builds into this issue; it feels like a mini-series in and of itself! And wouldn’t you know, Comedian #4 came out on the same day.

DM: Yes, it did.

SC: Yeah, unfortunately: for me and for it. Azzarello’s take on Blake couldn’t chew Fury’s cigar. Ms. Defabio, on the other hand…

DM: Va-va-voom!

SC: I’d like to see Defabio Max. But that’s another story entirely. Another story worth noting, by the way: Grant Morrison’s fresh take on Mr. Mxyzptlk in Action Comics #15. Page after page of space/time wackiness! Here’s Morrison proving that he sees and writes in more dimensions than anyone else. As always, I’m left thinking, What the hell is going on here? and That’s so, so good! at the same time. But what I did understand–and love–is the idea of “taking revenge on [Superman’s] whole life at once–” How ridiculously great is that? What a way for Morrison to make his way! Gosh, I’m gonna miss him.

DM: Of course you will. But you won’t have to miss him for too long: Multiversity is right around the corner.

SC: Yeah, I guess.

DM: Hey, now! Why not move on to something that definitely made you happy–and I’m not talking about Morrison’s Image mini.

SC:Dial H #7? That made me happy.

Dial H #7 Cover

DM: See! I knew it. Go on.

SC: It’s non-stop wacky fun! I love that Nelson and Roxie are sharing the single dial and the fact that Nelson’s “losing track” of who has turned into whom. Mieville’s been developing the danger of the dial for a while; it’s a brilliant angle, really. Oh, and can I get an “Amen!” for the creator of this peerless comic’s conjuring the cult of the dial and his clever turn in having the “Angel of the Dial” turn out to be a “super-woodlouse who talks like a 3-year-old”?

DM: Amen!

SC: You’re a good friend.

DM: Yes, I am.

SC: Well, friend, Mieville doesn’t stop there!

DM: Testify!

SC: Sure, his heroes are typically of the hit-and-run variety. But you know one idea that definitely has legs? The Centipede. Love David Lapham’s final splash, by the way. In fact, he’s done a fine job since taking over the duties from Mateus Santoloucco. I’d go as far to say that the storytelling is sharper as a result of his more straighforward style. Speaking of splashes: my favorite sequence in the book is when Manteau becomes The Planktonian and encounters an “old nemesis.” So, so good–especially when the “multitude” takes the form of a humanoid and shouts, “And you will sing no more!” It’s a memorable moment: like Gandolf’s commanding, “You shall not pass!” Epic.

I’m proud of myself. So very, very proud of myself–mainly for what I didn’t leave with. That, of course, doesn’t mean I got all of the books I wanted. Here’s the super skinny:

The Gift of Bag

Action Comics #15

Animal Man #15

Dial H #7 (Looks like Lapham’s still on art duties. Nothing wrong with that–especially after last month’s home run. I thumbed through it and found some serious smile material. Oh, Mr. Mieville, what pray-tell are you on?)

Swamp Thing #15 (Marco Rudy’s layouts look crazy! I wonder how well they carry the story.)

Daredevil: End of Days #3 (Worth the purch–if only for the spread across pages 2-3. I’m such a slut for Elektra.)

Thunderbolts #1 (See previous comment. Plus, I told Derek I’d probably buy it if, while thumbing through, I came to find Elektra stabbing someone in the face with her sai. How about in the back of the head and out the forehead? How about–on the same page as the aforementioned skewering–through one temple and out the other? Close enough!)

Shelf Love

Adventure Time #10 (Derek really liked it, and, fortunately, my guy still had a copy sittin’ on the shelf. Looks like a lot of fun.)

Adventure Time #10 Cover B

I missed Amazing Spider-Man #699 (sold out–already!), Colder #2 (none ordered for the shelf), and Secret Service #6 (possible non-ship?). You know what that means: Fourth World here I come! (It’s becoming a weekly thing. Yikes!)